In Which Jim Kirk is a Restless Sleeper and a Ponderer
by Hiding.in.the.cookie.jar
Summary: Spock kicks Jim out of bed one night in an attempt to sleep. Jim sulks and reflects on life.


**Something I thought of a while ago. Nothing special. I may take it down later to rewrite it.**

Jim flopped onto his back, then his side, and then onto his other side. This particular pattern of tossing had been repeated four times. Other variations had been repeated 15 times. The worst part of this was the fact that he had only been trying to sleep for an hour and a half and it was starting to piss off his mate. Spock had been on the verge of sleep every time Jim had decided to make an earthquake on their bed.

"Jim, t'hy'la," Spock said, sitting up.

"Did I wake you up? I'm sorry." Jim looked up at him with an apologetic expression.

"Why can you not sleep?"

Jim sat up, leaning against the headboard. "I don't know. I just can't get comfortable."

"Then I suggest you attempt to tire yourself before coming back to bed."

"Are you kicking me out?" Jim raised an eyebrow. "I thought Vulcans didn't need a lot of sleep."

"We do not. However, you know of how little sleep we have both gotten this past week."

Jim thought about it. They had dealt with natives from the last planet they visited becoming angry (or almost starting a war, to be more realistic) when a few officers unknowingly insulted the Queen of a tribe on the landing site. The whole debacle consisted of over 30 crew members being sent to sickbay and the command crew working around the clock. It took strong persuasion, charm, diplomacy, and, of course, logic to convince the natives that they were peaceful people on a peaceful mission. The natives accepted the apologies and apologized themselves for causing so much trouble. They really weren't bad people once you got passed their over-reactions.

"Yeah." Now Jim felt guilty. It was the first 8 hour night in more than a week that his Vulcan was actually going to spend in bed but Jim _did _want to spend it with him. "I'm sorry. I'll leave to sleep."

He stood up, grabbing a sweatshirt and pulling it on (Bones threatened him with hyposprays if he went around the ship shirtless anymore).

"Jim –"

"No. I'm keeping you from sleep. I'll just walk around; maybe go out on the observation deck."

"I know what you are trying to do."

Jim turned around, taking in Spock. His eyebrow was raised but the sassy expression did nothing to hide the tired eyes that lingered close as he blinked. Jim wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed to hold him, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and listening to his deep breathing.

"Is it working?" he asked.

"No," Spock answered, lying back down.

Jim's mouth hung open. He stared for a good 30 seconds before collecting all his dignity from the floor and leaving.

The observation deck was dark and empty. It was always empty at this time. All reasonable off-duty officers were tucked away in their quarters, dreaming dreams of starships and tribbles. Or that's at least the romanticized version. They were probably dreaming of Orion porn and the asses of young engineering boys.

On the deck, there were a few couches and chairs scattered around for lounging. Jim plopped down in one, looking out the window that spread out to cover most of the wall. He became lost in his thoughts as he watched the stars piercing the black of space. He began recounting the stories his father would tell him from his own travels. How planets looked right as their sun was rising behind it; how it felt to realize how small you were and how infinitely big the universe was; what it was like to have a family of 400 people. Jim and Sam would listen to these tales every night but Jim was always the one that had latched onto every word with wide eyes. It did not matter how many times he had heard them, they never got old. And now, almost 30 years later, Jim was gathering his own stories to tell.

Jim rubbed his eyes when they started itching. He sighed and let his mind wander more. Soon, his thoughts were of Spock and their first meeting over 3 years ago. The low hum of the engines was beginning to lull him to sleep and he curled up in his chair, comforted by his memories.

"Jim?"

The soft voice pulled him from his haze. He turned his head to the door and saw the silhouette of Spock in the doorway, light pooling in around him. Jim smiled gently as the figure came closer.

"Couldn't sleep without me?" he teased when Spock settled onto the arm of the chair.

"I admit I have become spoiled from your company." Spock's voice came quiet and drowsy – although, probably not as drowsy as Jim's at the moment.

"Knew it," Jim murmured. "How long have I been gone? I lost track of time."

"28 minutes. Why did you not return? You seem relaxed."

Jim hummed and leaned against Spock. "I was just thinking."

"Of what?"

"Things."

"That is not a stimulating thought."

"I was thinking of many things." Jim huffed a laughed.

"Would you care to share?"

Jim reached over and grabbed Spock's hand, rubbing his thumb over the bony knuckles. He knew what the close contact would do to Spock and he smirked. "Spock, what would it be like if we never decided to bond?"

"Our lives would be much like they were before. It is my belief that we would have eventually bonded at one point or another."

"Mmm. Really?"

"Yes. We are t'hy'la's and I have explained to you the gravity of that. We quite literally had been born for each other."

"Imagine that. Two babies light years away, sharing a destiny. What are the chances of that?"

Spock opened his mouth to give the answer but shut it after some revision. "Was that intended to be rhetorical? … Jim?"

He looked down. Jim was fast asleep. His hand was limp and Spock pulled his away with ease. He rose from the chair and hovered over the Captain for a moment. His face was relaxed, devoid of the stress he had faced constantly. Spock watched his chest fall evenly under the ragged sweatshirt he insisted on keeping after so many years of abuse. If a grown man was possible of striking a resemblance to a terran puppy, Jim, at that moment, would be the prime example. Spock scooped him up and Jim seemed to curl up more, nuzzling his head up to Spock's shoulder. Humans were peculiar, Spock thought as he carried his mate to their bed.


End file.
